The Fox Emerges
by percyismine
Summary: Things start to get a little weird during the PercyChauvelin duel as Chauvelin undergoes some changes... Now Complete!
1. Chauvelin Starts to Show

The Eagle and the Fox

Disclaimer: I, sadly, do not own any of the characters, as much as I may wish to. They are all of Baroness Orczy's imagination.

The two swords came together with a ringing clash that reverberated through the two men's hands. Chauvelin grimaced from the force of the shockwave, but Percy's face did not register any pain. Instead, it became more relaxed and a humorous glint brightened his eyes.

_Oh no,_ Chauvelin though. _I know that look. He's about to make a complete fool out of me. He's bigger and stronger and he knows-AAAAHHH!_

Suddenly, Percy's sword came out of nowhere and Chauvelin had to move fast to get away.

_He's also a better swordsman, _Chauvelin added._ Now pay attention!_

Chauvelin attacked Percy with all the force he had. The two men thrust and parried, dancing nimbly across the floor as Marguerite and The League looked on. Their swords flashed as they caught the light. There was grace and fluidity in their movement, although Chauvelin was noticeably choppier in his movement. And while the golden-haired Englishman moved with an almost ethereal grace, every move looking natural and effortless, it was clear that the smaller Frenchman was trying very hard and was desperate. His face was soon covered in a fine sheen of sweat and his breathing became labored. Suddenly, Percy's sword darted in-

And cut off one of the Frenchman's buttons!

Chauvelin looked at Percy in shock. Why had he done that?

_Name of a dog!_ Chauvelin cursed to himself. _What kind of gods-cursed game is he playing?_

He looked down at the vacant spot and back at Percy. There was laughter in the man's eyes and around his mouth.

"Damn you, Percy!" Chauvelin screamed defiantly as he attacked, his anger giving him strength. Percy was surprised by the ferocity of the smaller man's attack and was hard-pressed to regain his advantage.

Back and forth they went, Chauvelin attacking even more ferociously and Percy watching him more carefully. Suddenly, the rest of Chauvelin's buttons went clattering to the floor.

Percy smiled. "M'dear Mon-sewer, those buttons were simply not the correct style for that waistcoat and they were abominably sewed on. I was just doing you a favor, Shovelin'.

The said man simply gritted his teeth and thrust his sword forward again. He was angered beyond words, as well as the fact that he was slightly distracted by an unusual

itching coming from his... ahem... derriére.

Percy noticed the strange look on his opponent's face, for The Scarlet Pimpernel notices everything. But he wasn't sure what to make of it and decided to continue to continue to watch, feeling certain that the problem would reveal itself in time.

So they fought, each man blocking and parrying swiftly. But Chauvelin continued to become more and more distracted as not only the itching increased (and he couldn't very well scratch his butt in the middle of a swordfight, not to mention right in from of Marguerite) but his breeched started to feel rather... tight and... constraining...

Swiftly, the older man peeked down his front, hoping to determine the cause of this new discomfiture. Nothing there, thank-_wait, there is not God in this day and age of Liberty, Fraternity, and Equality,_ he reminded himself. So what the devil could be the cau-

**RRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPP!**

The two duelists stopped short and looked around. Percy looked slightly bemused, yet curious.

At first, Chauvelin's face registered only confusion as well. But then he noticed that the tightness of his breeches had disappeared. The rip had come from him!

He turned frantically around to see if he could discover what had happened. Nothing was there. But behind him he could hear...laughter. And above it all was the inane laugh of the man that Chauvelin had hunted. So the Frenchman peered slowly over his shoulder...

And saw a big, bushy, red, white-tipped, TAIL!

Mortified, Chauvelin spun around to face his laughing audience. Sir Andrew was turning a most unbecoming shade of red. My Lord Hastings was doubled over clutching a stitch that he had developed from laughing to hard. Lord Tony was kneeling on the floor. The rest of The League was in various other stages of hysterical laughter. Marguerite and Armand were clutching each other in an attempt to stay upright. And Sir Percy was leaning on his sword laughing merrily.

"My dear sir, it appears you have developed a fox's tail! Zounds! Now he is indeed 'bright-eyed and bushy tailed!' "

Indeed, Chauvelin's pale, fox-like eyes were bright. But with fury, not joy. Suddenly, he too doubled over, mimicking The League's positions. However, he was not in that position from laughing. Instead he was clutching his head and moaning in agony.

"AAAAAAAHHHHH! OOOOOOHH! My head! It-It's splitting open! OOOOOOWWW!"

The laughter died as the Frenchman's cries increased in intensity. Sir Percy stepped forward, concern etched on his noble brow. He didn't like to see anyone in pain, even an enemy such as Chauvelin. But as he moved forward, the doubled-over pain gave one last cry and fell to the ground...


	2. The League Knows

"_My dear sir, it appears you have developed a fox's tail! Zounds! Now he is indeed 'bright-eyed and bushy tailed!' "_

_Indeed, Chauvelin's pale, fox-like eyes were bright. But with fury, not joy. Suddenly, he too doubled over, mimicking The League's positions. However, he was not in that position from laughing. Instead he was clutching his head and moaning in agony._

_"AAAAAAAHHHHH! OOOOOOHH! My head! It-It's splitting open! OOOOOOWWW!" _

_The laughter died as the Frenchman's cries increased in intensity. Sir Percy stepped forward, concern etched on his noble brow. He didn't like to see anyone in pain, even an enemy such as Chauvelin. But as he moved forward, the doubled-over pain gave one last cry and fell to the ground... _

The Englishman hurried over and examined the still form. He bent over Chauvelin briefly, then looked up at his anxious audience.

"Monsieur Chauvelin lives," Percy said, speaking in his leader voice instead of his fop one, "and it appears he will suffer no lasting damage, but..." Here, Sir Percy's voice trailed off and a strange look crossed his face.

"What is it Percy?" Marguerite's musical voice held concern, even for the man who had made her suffer so much.

When Percy didn't answer, Tony repeated the query a little more impatiently.

"Odd's fish, what is the mat...ter..."

The younger man's voice faded away as Percy stepped silently away from the fallen Frenchman.

"Oh my God," someone whispered...


	3. Chauvelin Comprehends

**Hi guys! I hope you all are enjoying my story. Sorry that the last chapter was so short. I feel that an explanation is necessary as to why this story ever became created, so here I go:**

**In the books, Baroness Orczy is always describing Chauvelin as pale and fox-like. My one friend, Care, read the book on my recommendation and commented on it. Somehow, we got on the subject of Chauvelin being fox-like and wouldn't it be funny if he morphed.**

**A while later, I was forcing her to watch the 1982 version of The Scarlet Pimpernel with Anthony Andrews and came to my favorite scene: the duel. We randomly reverted back to how funny it would be if Chauvelin morphed and one of us said that it would be hilarious if it happened during the duel….**

**And the story was born.**

**I think Care and I need help.**

**Anyways, here we are today. I will now continue with the story. I only have a simple request: please, please, please review! Is the story good? Is it bad? Is it okay? Or should I never write again and hide in a hole the rest of my life? Tell me what you think! No foul language in the reviews is all I ask.**

**REVIEW!**

**Now to the story.**

"_Oh my God," someone whispered._

Everyone clustered in closer as Percy moved away from the huddled form. Chauvelin lay slightly curled with his new appendage lying on the floor stretched behind him. The 20 men and the lone woman peered closely at Chauvelin, dumbstruck at what they saw. As they looked on, the Frenchman's eyelids fluttered slightly, signaling his return to the waking world. The small group backed up to give him breathing room as he awoke. Slowly, his eyes opened, but he soon closed them again.

"Ugh…" Chauvelin grunted softly as he pushed his body in a sitting position. He rubbed his face slowly. "My head…" he muttered softly as he did so. He moved his hand up over his head to brush his hair out of his face… and suddenly met with an obstruction. It was warm and furry. There was a dip in it and he could feel the coarse hairs. It gave way slightly beneath his hand. He moved his other hand up and found another object there as well. It struck him that everyone was breathing really loudly. Or… was his hearing amplified? He gasped at the implications of this. His hands flew from his head to the tail behind him as he shot off the floor. Pulling the furry object out in front where he could see it, he stroked it slightly.

"I have a fox's tail..." he whispered quietly to himself. "Could it be...I also... have the... ears?" A glance around the circle that surrounded him confirmed his suspicions.

"Dieu!" he moaned softly. "Pourquoi? Pourqoi?" His distressed cause him to revert back into his home tongue. The Frenchman crumpled to the floor and rocked back and forth, muttering in his own tongue, cursing and questioning. The Englishmen looked sheepish at this display of affection and wandered away, muttering nonsensically about getting changed and getting ready. Presently, the head was raised from the hands and Chauvelin's pale eyes, which matched his ears and tail perfectly, looked up at the few who had remained around him. Namely, Sir Percy, Marguerite, Armand, Lord Tony, Lord Hastings, and Sir Andrew.

"Sir Percy," he said quietly. "Do you perchance know where a looking glass may be in this castle? I wish to see..." his voice trailed off, but the unspoken words hovered in the air.

"Of course, m'dear sir!" Percy replied heartily to hide his pity. "Right this way!" As Chauvelin rose, Marguerite stepped forward to steady him, even though he had caused her so much pain. Her heart pitied him, for she had never seen the strong man this way before. He almost never showed emotion, hiding behind his contempt. No shaft ever seemed to wound him. Except this one.

The group moved up the stairs and into a room that had once been deserted, but was now filled with various disguises that the League had used. Across the room was a looking glass and the Frenchman moved towards it mechanically, leaving the four men and the woman behind him, watching from the door. His lips moved silently as he stared into the glass. He fingered his ears slowly. They protruded at his head from slight angles, but they weren't too far down... Looking around, he spied a hat lying on a chair. Grabbing it, he placed it on his head. If he pushed his ears slightly, he could get the hat over his head and they didn't bulge out at the sides too much. _Yes, I might be able to hide these,_ he mused. But the tail...

It would have been a beautiful tail if it wasn't attached to HIS rear end. Bushy and large, the fur was soft and silky and a magnificent red. The tip was immaculately white. It proudly waved and had a self presence that Chauvelin sometimes never saw in humans. It seemed to mock him. And he hated it. How he hated it! How could he ever do his job now with a big tail saying, "Look at this man!" He could never do undercover work because it would give him away. He couldn't even be a political representative because he would be laughed out of ballrooms!

Chauvelin's eyes hardened and his already white hand became even whiter as he clenched the sword that he had grabbed from the floor as they had left the room. Turning, he pulled a table in front of the mirror and placed his tail on it so that he could see the end in the glass. He raised the sword...


	4. Finishing up some Business

_Chauvelin's eyes hardened and his already white hand became even whiter as he clenched the sword that he had grabbed from the floor as they had left the room. Turning, he pulled a table in front of the mirror and placed his tail on it so that he could see the end in the glass. He raised the sword..._

And a stronger hand gripped his wrist and checked the blow he was about to deliver. His concentration broken, the Frenchman looked up in surprise to see Sir Percy's face looking down at him. Turning slightly, he saw Tony, Andrew, Hastings, and Armand all paused in various stages of advancement across the room. All four had detected his purpose, but their leader moved the fastest. Out of the corner of his eye, Chauvelin saw Marguerite standing by the door with her hands cupped over her mouth. His narrow face creased into a frown. He had completely forgotten about his audience in his examination and focus on his new limbs. Turning, he once again faced the man who had first intruded on the situation.

"Just what in the seven hells do you think you are doing, sir?" Chauvelin said coldly to the Englishman. At the same time, he wrenched his arm from Percy's grasp and stood with the sword dangling by his side. Although smaller in stature, his anger and indignation seemed to make him grow taller as he addressed the six-foot some blonde.

"Merely keeping you from doing something rash," was the cool response. Sir Percy seemed to have relaxed, but one could see that if the Frenchman did anything "rash," he would immediately intercede.

"Tu cretin bête!" _(You stupid cretin!)_ Chauvelin gritted out between his clenched teeth. "Who gave you the permission to decide what is rash and what is not! My actions are perfectly acceptable!" Anger radiated from the Frenchman and he faced off against Percy. His face flushed and he trembled in his rage. Percy, on the other hand, was the perfect image of cool reason as he regarded the smaller man through his looking glass.

"You cannot seriously think that chopping your tail off in front of a _lady_ is acceptable? You do not think that it is a bit rash as you are clearly overcome with-"

"Non!" Chauvelin interrupted. "I will not hear anymore! I am a free Frenchman and am at my liberty to do what I wish! You have no right to control me! Ever since you set foot on this country, you have caused nothing but trouble for me! Je suis si fâché ! Je ne peux pas parler ou peux penser pour la colère ! Je vous déteste, comprenez-vous? You have ruined my life! You... you...AAAAAAGGH! Enfers!" _(I am so angry! I cannot think or speak for anger! I hate you, do you understand?... Hells!)_

Sir Percy stood silently throughout this tirade, although his League members stood with their mouths hanging open at the fury that the little Frenchman displayed. Their knowledge of French gave them a basic understanding of what Chauvelin was saying and his actions filled in the rest. They watched Chauvelin pace back and forth as he could no longer find the words necessary to convey his anger. Suddenly, he turned and glared daggers at the Englishman who still stood silent and unruffled. Grasping his sword more firmly, he lunged towards Percy with the point aimed straight at the Englishman's heart...

But Percy was quicker. He darted to the side as Chauvelin flew forward and grasped the little man's wrist. Breaking it with almost no effort, he managed to take the sword as the Frenchman's hand went limp. At the same time, he placed a strong blow to the back of the head causing Chauvelin to slump forward, unconscious.

Before the four other League members could step forward, the task was finished and Percy was placing the limp form on the floor and straightening up.

"Foulkes, Hastings," he said to two of the men. "Tell the League to ready themselves for departure and to get onto the Daydream." The two addressed men nodded and went to their chief's bidding. Percy turned to the other two. "Armand, Tony. Please carry Monsieur Chauvelin downstairs and place him in his carriage. Wait for me there." Both came forward and lifted their burden from the floor and began their descent towards the stairs. Now there were only two left in the room. The Englishman walked to the door where his faithful wife had been waiting the entire time. He bowed formally and offered her his arm. "My lady. Shall we?" he asked with a merry twinkle in his eye. Marguerite curtsied perfectly, and took his arm. But when they reached the top of the stairs, she stopped him.

"Percy," she whispered. He looked down at her curiously, waiting for her to go on. "I was so scared..." But the tears rose up and choked her and she buried her face in her husband's coat. Gently, he placed his hands under her chin and raised her head so he could stare into her eyes.

"La, m'dear," he murmured as he kissed her tears away. "Death could not keep me from your ladyship. You are too dear to me." But no more words could come for him either and he captured her mouth, making words no longer necessary.

A slight cough broke their moment as Andrew returned to the bottom of the stairs. He looked slightly ashamed at witnessing such a tender moment. "Er... Percy... ahem... sorry, but the League is ready." The chief looked at his wife, then at his right-hand man. "Well," he said, "let us leave then. I must take care of one piece of business first, however..."

Outside, he moved over to the black carriage that had brought Citizen Chauvelin and himself to the château. "Is he still unconscious?" he inquired of Armand and Tony. They nodded their reply as Percy looked in. The deputy of the Republic was lain across the seat in such a way that would keep him from falling during the trip down to the waiting guards. Satisfied, he looked up at the driver. "Return him to the guards," he instructed, handing the driver a bag of gold, "and say nothing."

The man tipped his hat and whipped the horses up down towards the guards as a response...

On board the Daydream, bound for England, Marguerite stood in her husband's arms as they looked out across the water. "Percy," she murmured.

"Hmm?" was the only response.

"What do you think will happen to Chauvelin?"

Her husband only laughed. "I do not know, my dear. And frankly, I don't really care anymore."

**Hello! It's me! The story isn't over yet, don't worry! One more chapter! I hope everyone has enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I will be leaving to go out of the country in little over a week, so I am hoping to get the final chapter posted within that amount of time. But first, I have to get through finals. To anyone else who will be taking them, Good Luck! If chapter 5 isn't up by Wednesday the 15, then it won't be posted until July. But I can tell you that reviews will greatly speed up the process! nudge nudge hint hint**


	5. Epilogue

**Wow! Okay guys, we are now officially on the final chapter! Well, it technically isn't a chapter seeing how it's the epilogue, but why stress the details?**

**For all of you have reviewed my story, thank you. **

**Tyello: Thanks! It's really hard for me to write funny stories, (they were always depressing during Power of the Pen) so it's good that someone is enjoying it. As for cutting off his tail, see chapter four and I am also going to address that in this chapter! thinks to self I would like to grow a tail actually...**

**Care: I'm sorry that it's short, but it has limited material! I can't just ramble on and on... but I will write more stories! I swear it on my honor!**

**If yours isn't mentioned, then I haven't read it at the time of writing this final part. **

**But be assured that I have read all reviews and appreciate them!**

**Tally-bally ho and here we go!**

Epilogue

The carriage jolted and jumped down the hill from the château to the place where the guards waited for the return of Citizen Chauvelin. Upon reaching the said men, it stopped and the captain stepped forward from the ranks to confer with the citizen. However, when he peered in, he found the occupant deeply asleep. Le capitain gazed up at the driver.

"He's asleep!" he announced contemptuously. The driver nodded a reply.

"Oui, 'e was very tired when 'e came down an' 'e said that if 'e was asleep, to tell you that 'e wanted to continue on to Paris," the man muttered.

"Right, then!" the captain barked. "You heard him, you slugs! Marchez!" _(March!)_

The soldiers whipped up their horses and fell into formation around the coach as the procession began trotting towards Paris.

_Two hours later..._

Inside the coach, Citizen Chauvelin began to shift and move slightly. His head bounced against the back of the seat, and it kept striking an especially tender spot. Shifting, he gingerly felt the spot. _Ouch!_ He winced as he felt it._ That's going to be one big lump... _Resettling himself, he thought over the events of the past few hours.

_Sir Percy must have knocked me out,_ he mused._ The last thing I remember is charging at him and him snapping my wrist like a twig._ Abruptly, he looked down to examine the limb. It was splinted and closely wrapped in clean linen. He couldn't move it at all, and it was quite painless actually. _ So, they must have taken care of my injury and brought me to the carriage and sent me on my way. _ He finished the story in his head. It seemed to fit. _ By the by, _he thought,_ I wonder where we are now..._

"Capitan!" he shouted out of the carriage.

"Citizen!" came the response as the captain pulled his horse back to be even with the carriage door.

"Where are we now?"

"About another three hours from Paris, citizen."

"And how long have I been uncon-asleep?"

"About two hours, citizen!"

Chauvelin processed this information. Two hours! That was a mighty blow indeed! A slight cough from the captain broke him from his reverie.

"Hm? Oh, merci, capitain. You are dismissed." Finished, he sat back in the seat again. Suddenly, it struck him that the captain's voice had seemed loud to his ears. _Well, you fool, you do have a fox's ears!_ he reminded himself. _ And don't forget that they are more sensitive than a human's! Come to _think_ of it, the captain didn't comment on my new... appearance, did he?_ Chauvelin reached up to touch his ears and felt his hat there instead. _So, they were kind enough to try and save me some shame, were they?_ he thought dryly. _But my tail! They must have put me in such a position that it is hidden!_ Turning, he found this to be the case, as the offending article was tucked snugly behind him and covered by his coat.

The deputy to the Committee of Public Safety rode along in the carriage in silence for a while, absorbed in his own thoughts. Presently, he thought he heard whispering behind him. Removing his hat, he pricked up his ears (literally!) and listened.

"What the devil do you think happened back there?"

"I dunno, but did you notice that only the one carriage came back?"

"Mais, oui! And, I saw a ship just off the coast as we road away."

"Do you think the Citizen was tricked and the Scarlet Pimpernel eluded him?"

Placing his hat back on his head, Chauvelin leaned out of the carriage and addressed the two soldiers he had overheard.

"You two!"

The soldiers looked at, him startled.

"I can hear you, you know! And I don't appreciate gossip. What happened is my own affair and it is not for silly little soldiers to know!" With that, Chauvelin pulled his head back into his carriage. But not before seeing the look of shock in the two soldiers' faces and the confusion on the others'. They had heard nothing, so how could Citizen Chauvelin have heard it?

Inside the coach, the sallow Frenchman sat back in his seat._ This could turn out all right after all..._

_Months later..._

Citizen Chauvelin strode down the street, his tail waving behind him, his ears hidden under his hat. He had been mocked at first when he returned, but it soon stopped when he made it known that he could hear the whispers that no one else could. He was feared as never before because no one could understand his new power.

"There goes Citizen Chauvelin!"

"I heard he sold his soul to the devil for his new powers!"

"Hush, he'll hear you!'

The man smiled. He hadn't sold his soul to the devil, but he allowed the rumors to grow because he grew along with them.

_I shall find you, my elusive Pimpernel!_ he swore silently. _I hear everything now! You will regret not letting me get rid of my tail and ears, for they shall help me find you. And when I do find you, you shall curse the day you were born..._

Chauvelin chuckled as he contemplated what he would do to the man he had hunted for so long. Passing the town's guillotine, he looked up. He smiled, and saw in his mind's eye the shining blade descending and kissing the neck of that bold Englishman...

Finis.

**It is complete! sniffs I had so much fun writing this, I don't want it to be over! So, tell me what you thought! You all know where that little button is down there that says Send a Review! Click it now!**

**My next story will either be a Scarlet Pimpernel songfic or a Pride and Prejudice fic, so keep a lookout for new postings by your humble servant.**

**Au revoir!**


End file.
